


Tomorrow

by DaughterOfYith



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27452227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfYith/pseuds/DaughterOfYith
Summary: N'Zoth has been defeated, and yet Anduin's heart remains heavy. He has unfinished business with the man - the dragon - whose help was instrumental in saving Azeroth. Words remained to be said. But love and reason often do not go hand in hand.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw, Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Kudos: 58





	Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my good friends C. and D. You know who you are.

Anduin stared out across the city, the rays of the setting sun painting it in yellows and golds. It was quite a breathtaking sight. Always got his heart beating just a little bit faster. But this particular time it wasn’t just that; he was expecting a guest in his private chambers, against the explicit wishes of his personal guard. But not only was he confident that no actual harm would come to him, but there were certain things that should be discussed away from others.

The door opened and he turned to watch the dark-skinned man enter. No, not man. Anduin had to remind himself of that on occasion, but once he looked into those deep red eyes, he was immediately reminded that the person before him was, in fact, much different than him.

Wrathion gave him a smile. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

“You did come through,” the king said, his tone soft. “But I’m not quite sure what’s left to be said.”

“Well… I was hoping I could ask for something in return for my aid.”

Anduin raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were helping yourself as much as us.”

The dragon allowed himself a small nod. “Quite. But I think my part in saving millions across Azeroth, not to mention Azeroth herself, is worth a room in your beautiful keep.”

A blink. Then another. “Beg your pardon?”

“I wish to remain in Stormwind for a time,” Wrathion smiled. “There are certain things here I wish to… get acquainted with. Your library, for one.”

There was something in that smile that told Anduin there was more to that request than met the eye. Something he was not being told. Something almost… hungry.

He sighed. “You’re not being honest with me,” he said, doing his best to keep his tone from sounding like an accusation. Judging by the expression he saw in response, he failed.

“Oh, Anduin,” Wrathion said in a tone that was almost mockingly hurt. “You break my heart.”

“Spare me.”

The dragon shook his head. “I was hoping to… mend our relationship. We used to be so close…”

“Used to be,” the king said as the other man took a couple steps forward, closing the distance between them. “Until you-”

“I regret the part I played in your father’s death,” Wrathion interrupted him. “It was never my intention.”

“That means little now.”

“I know.” Another step forward. “I was hoping that by coming here I could start trying to bring our relationship back to what it was.”

They were now very close, merely a step apart, yet Anduin did not move. He stood firm, as if responding to some unspoken threat. But his heart beat faster again, and he could feel it in his chest. “And what do you think it was, exactly?” As he spoke, he realized his voice had that slight tremble to it that betrayed anxiety.

Wrathion raised his hand to touch the other man’s cheek, but he flinched away. Wrathion frowned slightly. “All those things we said to each other in Pandaria…”

“We were children then.” Anduin did not look at him.

“Doesn’t mean our feelings weren’t honest.”

No. It doesn’t. Anduin had to admit that what he said was as honest as possible. Naive, perhaps rash, but true. He could recall the words exactly – or at least the words his memories insisted were the ones he said – along with those he heard in return, and along with that expression he saw. The smile on that dark face, the sparkle in those red eyes, the genuine happiness of a young man whose heart skipped a beat.

He looked at the dragon again, and saw the exact opposite. Sadness, the eyes oddly dim, though that was probably just his imagination.

“… Wrathion…”

The man leaned in, and this time Anduin did not move away. Their lips met, and the kiss was wet, clumsy, and the best feeling in the world.

“We can’t,” he said quietly when they parted.

“You don’t sound like you don’t want it,” the dragon embraced him, but not strongly, allowing him to pull away if he decided to.

He didn’t. “I’m king.”

“And I can’t say I understand you humans’ fixation on matters of marriage…” Wrathion sighed. Before the other man could respond, he added: “Or are you saying you’re seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”

_How would you even know?_ was what Anduin wanted to ask; instead, he simply said: “No…”

“Then this isn't a problem, is it?” Wrathion once again pressed their lips together.

Anduin felt himself responding. He kissed back, even though some small voice in the back of his mind told him to pull back before things go too far. But as he tasted that warm mouth, welcomed that wet tongue, and felt that quickening breath on his skin, the voice grew more and more quiet.

They parted sooner than he’d have wanted, but he had no time to complain as he was pulled to his oversized bed. He looked up at that handsome, dark face and the sharp, almost mischievous smile adorning it.

“If you say you don’t want it,” Wrathion said, “I won’t believe you.”

Anduin just stared at him for a moment, until he couldn’t hear that distant voice anymore.

The next kiss was more passionate, the type that took their breath away as they struggled to taste as much of each other as possible. The king wasn’t even sure when the clothes came off, but at one point he found his naked body pressed against Wrathion’s. He was hot; hotter than he should be? Anduin couldn’t tell, not having been this close with anyone before, but it would make sense, since the man beside him was actually a dragon.

A dragon holding him close and kissing over his neck. Breathing heavily against his skin and pressing his erection against Anduin’s thigh.

“Wrathion…” he managed, unsure how to proceed. “What… do you want me to do?”

Wrathion pulled away a bit, his crimson eyes shining, and his lips curling into a smirk. “I’ve done my research, for this very moment…”

He kept speaking, but Anduin couldn’t hear it. His mind focused on those particular words. Wrathion, a non-human, one of the last of his kind… prepared for a night with a mortal? Has he really been taking it so seriously all this time? And hasn’t mentioned anything since- since their letters became less and less frequent, after their meeting in Pandaria?

“Anduin?”

“S-sorry, I got… distracted…”

The other man’s expression softened. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”

The king looked away, feeling his cheeks heat up even more.

Wrathion’s hand moved over Anduin’s side slowly. “There’s no shame in that. I’m honoured that you’d want me as your first.”

Anduin leaned in and kissed him on the lips once more, and felt that wet tongue invade his mouth again. It felt good. It felt right.

He heard himself gasp softly as a hand squeezed his rear, and another brushed against his already hardening cock. He mouthed Wrathion’s name, holding onto him, unsure what he himself was supposed to do. He tried to mirror his lover’s movements, eventually wrapping his fingers around the dragon’s hardness.

“Anduin…” Wrathion sighed, his cock twitching against the gentle touch.

“You’re… kind of big…”

He kissed over Anduin’s neck, making him tilt his head back a bit. “I won’t hurt you…”

Before the king could ask the next question that came to his mind, Wrathion shifted them a bit. He moved over the man, who was forced to lay flat on his back and with his legs up and apart. Their cocks were touching.

“I love you, Anduin…” he said, his voice close to a whisper. He started moving his hips, rubbing them against each other, if a bit clumsily.

Anduin responded by pulling Wrathion closer and kissing him once more. He knew what he wanted to say. The feeling he wanted so badly to vocalize. But he could not find the words. He hoped that his hand would suffice instead as he tried to wrap it around both their cocks, even though he could not embrace them fully.

Wrathion exhaled. “Oh, my…” he smiled. “That is… nice…”

The king focused more on that face, mere inches from his own, on that hot breath against his own skin, those eyes that struggled to stay open under the overwhelming sensation.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed, surprised he actually got the words out. His hand sped up on its own, against the rhythm of his lover’s hips.

He tried to respond to the next kiss, but he had to break it for breath as the pleasure became too much. His voice got stuck in his throat as he erupted between them, all over himself, so suddenly that he didn’t even notice that Wrathion came just a moment after him.

The dark arms embraced him, and he wanted to reciprocate, but decided to only do so with his clean hand.

Wrathion kissed the pale neck softly. “I love you,” he said again, and then again, as if wanting to make sure Anduin heard it properly. Or maybe hoping for a response.

Anduin pushed him away a bit and looked into those deep red eyes. And saw that familiar fire of happiness.

“I love you too,” he heard himself say.

The next time their lips met was more passionate, longer, and perhaps a bit wetter. Wrathion would have to leave rather soon as to not raise suspicion, they were both aware, but they could allow themselves just a bit longer in each other’s embrace.

Just a little bit longer.

Anduin was woken by the rays of the rising sun. He rubbed his eyes, stinging slightly from the rude interruption of his sleep, and sat up after a longer moment. The bed next to him was empty, ad the sheets cold.

Of course. A part of him, somewhere in the far back of his mind, mentioned that perhaps that was all a dream. He dismissed it, memories of the intimacy far too vivid to not be real. Then that same quiet voice said that maybe Wrathion wasn’t going to come back.

That one was a little harder to silence.

Reluctantly, Anduin forced himself to get out of bed and get himself ready for another day of pretending he’s good enough to succeed his father. Some days were easier than others, and that particular one started off as one of the worst ones in a while.

Of course, someone was bound to notice.

“Not feeling well?” Genn Greymane asked as the king walked into the throne room.

“Didn’t sleep very well,” Anduin said, allowing himself a small sigh to hopefully mask the lie. He sat down on his throne rather heavily.

“Does it have anything to do with the last black dragon waltzing around the keep?”

Anduin actually blinked. “Ah… Wrathion?”

“He requested a room.”

“Yes… I already told him he can stay a while.”

Genn raised an eyebrow. “So you allowed him in after all that’s happened between you, and you still haven’t told me if he’s the reason for your mood.”

The younger man avoided eye contact, but only for a bit. “No. Yes. Kind of. I’m not sure. I… don’t really want to blame him. He didn’t mean to… did he?”

“You should ask him, not me.”

“I have. Should I trust what he said?”

Genn moved closer to him, not wanting the conversation to be heard by the guards stationed around the room. “I don’t think I could,” he said quietly. “But I can see you want to.”

Anduin felt his heart skip a beat. Was he being so obvious? “What makes you think that?” he asked slowly, careful to choose the right words.

He was met with a smile. “Never underestimated an old man’s instincts, my boy. Be ware of him, alright? If you ever need to talk about anything, you know you can come to me.”

Anduin nodded. He knew that, of course, but he wasn’t so sure Genn truly mean everything. How would he react if asked for advice on forbidden romance with another man, one who wasn’t even human? How much less would he think of Anduin then?

Greymane raised an eyebrow. “Did you say something?”

The other man stiffened. He didn’t even realize any words escaped his mouth. “N-no,” he managed. Completely unconvincing “Um. Please send Wrathion my way if you see him.”

He received a nod in response before Genn turned to leave. And that was all they said to each other that day.

But Genn was not done with the entire matter.

He found Wrathion in the garden outside the library, flipping through a sizeable tome. The dragon didn’t seem to notice the man approaching, at least not until Greymane was standing next to him.

He looked up from the book. “Your Majesty?”

Ah. Some basic decorum, at least. “Good day, Prince Wrathion,” he responded with the same, though his tone was rather firm. “I’d like to speak to you about Anduin.”

The book was closed with a thud.

“Don’t you dare hurt him again.”

Wrathion’s eyes met Genn’s, and he smiled. “I have no such intention, I assure you.”

Genn smiled back, but there was a certain aura of threat behind it. “Like you didn’t mean to last time?”

No response came, but Wrathion rose from the bench he had been sitting on.

“He’s really hoping he can trust you again,” Greymane continued. “That you didn’t come to him simply to get protection from N’Zoth.”

Finally, the dragon spoke again. “You think I did, don’t you, sire?”

It was Genn’s turn to keep quiet, but the question did not require answering.

“Is it because I’m Neltharion’s kin?”

“Or maybe because of the things you’ve done before?”

Wrathion held the tome to his chest, almost as if wanting to put something between himself and the man. “Once again, I assure you I have no intention of hurting him. He means a lot to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to put this book away.”

“He wants to talk to you,” Genn said, but heard nothing in response. He watched the dragon walk back into the library, a part of him wondering just how much of what he just heard was true. There was a certain conviction in Wrathion’s tone that told him that at least some of the words were honest. But Neltharion wasn’t always the Deathwing everyone remembered him as.

And the rest of him wondered what Anduin saw in that young dragon.

Never underestimate an old parent’s intuition.

Two nights later, as the sun set on Stormwind’s royal keep, Anduin struggled with the nagging thoughts. Wrathion hasn’t come to see him since that night, so he decided to give him that space. Perhaps neither of them were as certain of anything as they pretended to be. He would bring it up again, eventually, because things like this can’t be just left hanging like this. And by then he’d be ready, in more ways than one.

But was it really a good idea, though? Or was it as bad as it sounded in the moment? Surely it cant be that bad, it’s not like he was the first to try, nor would he be the last.

He stared at the jar, the ointment in it slightly unpleasantly yellow. It looked suspiciously like some sort of animal fat, but thankfully whoever invented this particular blend had enough sense to add a few extra herbs for a nice scent. He had used this concoction before, on some minor wounds, and never liked how oily it felt on his skin. But this time the oiliness would be an asset, or so he was told.

Hopefully the medic didn’t catch on what Anduin wanted to do with it exactly, but what were the chances of that?

He took a deep breath, laying back on the bed. Despite his lack of experience he had a basic understanding of what sex was, he just had no real idea how it was done in practice. And he’d rather sit on a quillboar than ask Genn for tips. But since he and the one he desired were both men, there had to be a specific trick to it.

He dipped his fingers in the ointment and started touching himself, sure that he was blushing deep red even though there was no one there to see him. The oil was cold and made him shiver as he brought a finger to his opening.

It felt weird, but not unpleasant. He tried picturing Wrathion leaned over him, tried to protect the hand touching him wasn’t his at all. He recalled the sensation of it against his skin, how wonderful it made him feel, and imagined how those fingers would feel inside him.

One. He remembered those hot lips kissing all over him, that breath on this neck.  He started moving. That voice whispering his name. Two fingers. That thick cock twitching against his own. He wrapped his free hand around hi s hardness, a moan escaping his lips. That amazing, comforting heat. Three fingers. Those strong arms embracing him, those passionate kisses.

H e heard himself cry out Wrathion’s name as he came.

Panting and seeing stars, he laid back on his pillows. He stared at the white stone ceiling to let his vision clear, but his mind was still racing. He was vaguely aware that the guards outside might have heard him, but he didn’t have enough brain capacity left to care. That would be tomorrow’s problem, proving his personal guard was disloyal enough – dumb enough – to say something.

Considering the healer he obtained the ointment from was probably already suspecting the king of the entire grand Alliance had certain sexual implications, perhaps people will start talking soon.

As he started cleaning himself, he considered that he probably, royally fucked up.

A couple more days passed with Anduin feeling like he was constantly walking on eggshells. That persistent voice in the back of his head kept telling him that people were gossiping all around him, and the only reason he hasn’t heard any of that himself was because everyone was careful not to let him. He felt so self-conscious of these worries that he was certain everyone noticed that, too.

A nd on top of all that, he hasn’t spoken to Wrathion in private since that night they shared. All of their exchanges were brief, polite, public and so awkward Anduin wanted to hide somewhere for the rest of eternity.  But then he would be forced to listen to that voice he was starting to be slightly afraid of, that voice saying Wrathion probably wasn’t having the same doubts, and likely just didn’t want to pursue the relationship despite having said otherwise. Anduin promised himself he’ll speak to him eventually after giving them both some space to think it all over, but the more time passed, the more difficult it became to say the words. The more it seemed that there was no actual relationship to salvage.

T hat particular day was even worse to bear, as while going about his duties Anduin caught a glimpse of Mathias Shaw. A glimpse of Mathias Shaw being visited by his Kul Tiran love r that he could hold hands with, that he could walk around with in public. Mathias Shaw being himself. Mathias Shaw being happy.

Anduin barely kept the tears back as he went about his day.

What the king couldn’t notice in his depression was that the spymaster watched him back.

Shaw was good at observing, especially discreetly. He made sure that his glances were sufficiently buried in between the looks he  casually sent around like he always did, looking around at the world as a whole, made sure that those that were obvious appeared accidental. He was in his element and barely even registered that he was, in essence, spying on his own liege.

But the other man noticed.

Flynn practically shoved his face in Shaw’s, right over their drinks. “Hel-loooo?”

Mathias flinched away. “Don’t  _do_ that.”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now. You alright?”

“Fine,” he looked down at his wine, and then around the room. As usual, they picked a table safely tucked away in a corner, just to give themselves a little bit of privacy. Privacy that he was grateful for. “We have a job to do.”

Flynn paused with the ale halfway to his lips. “We?”

“Well. Mostly me, but I’m afraid you’re involved.”

“Oh, lovely. I adore being roped into a job before I could even agree.”

Shaw rolled his eyes. “I’m asking you right now.”

“So what’s the job?”

He glanced around once more to make sure no one was close enough, saw that the inn was virtually empty, and leaned in a bit closer to the other man so that he could lower his voice a bit. Just in case. “We’re going to run some counter-intelligence.”

Flynn allowed himself a grin. “Now I’m interested.”

The spymaster nodded. Of course he knew he’d peak the other man’s interest, what with his penchant for adventures, drama, and to a lesser extent for shoving his nose in other people’s business. What Flynn did not need to know was that this job wasn’t an official SI:7 operation. It wasn’t sanctioned by King Wrynn. In fact, he wasn’t even supposed to find out about it, at least for as long as possible.  Instead, it was a personal request from King Greymane, who asked Shaw to handle this situation before the gossip got out of control. The manner, however, he left to the spymaster to decide.

“Rumours have been circulating about King Wrynn for a while now,” Shaw said without looking at his partner. And he did mean a while; people have been talking practically since his crowning. “That he’s gay.”

Fairwind sipped his ale silently for a moment. “Is he?”

“Irrelevant.”

“So, yes.”

Mathias groaned. “Flynn.”

“Sorry. So you want to counter the rumours. How?”

He took a sip of his wine. “By making people think they’re actually about me. I’m close enough to the king to make it believable. Someone somewhere could’ve altered it, as usually happens with rumours.”

The captain nodded slowly. “That does make sense.”

“And you’d be my evidence.”

“Evidence,” Flynn smiled. “Haven’t I been your ‘evidence’ for a while now?”

“Exactly,” Shaw returned the smile. “So we’d just be using the situation. No real effort on your part.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Fairwind leaned just a bit closer in. “I have an idea how we can start this operation.”

“Hmm?”

He placed his hand on Shaw’s and gently, chastely smooched his lips. “We can go upstairs.”

Mathias allowed himself a smirk as he stood from the table, still holding the other man’s hand.

Wrathion continued to spend most of his days in the keep’s library, perusing a diverse selection of tomes, from the history of the Dragonmaw clan’s involvement in Grim Batol to a number of obscure alchemical recipes. People who saw him there on different days couldn’t really discern what he was looking for, if he was looking for anything specific at all. Perhaps he was just searching for general knowledge on certain topics, and those who recognized him as a dragon at least understood his interest in history of the Second War.

Anduin told himself he will ask about it at some point, just not at that particular moment, as he approached the dragon. “Advisor.”

Wrathion turned from the bookshelf he had been browsing, and smiled. “Anduin.”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” the king said, hoping the tremble in his voice was not audible. “Would you please accompany me?”

With a nod, the other man followed Anduin out of the library an out towards the gardens, but no words were exchanged. He had a good idea what the issue in question was, and it wasn’t something they should speak about in the open, regardless of how secluded a spot they could find. He simply kept walking, a step behind Anduin, eyes drawn to those blonde locks flowing in the gentle evening breeze.

The urge to run his hand through those locks proved quite difficult to resist.

Anduin led him in a somewhat roundabout route, not wanting to make it too obvious that he was in fact taking the other man towards his own chambers. He stopped Wrathion around a corner and proceeded to dismiss his guards from in front of the door. With how much he’s been screwing this whole thing up, one more suspicious order wouldn’t make that much of a difference. And the conversation couldn’t wait any longer.

Or he’d go insane.

Once the guards made their way to see if they’re not somewhere else, Anduin invited Wrathion inside. But when they were in the chambers, alone, he couldn’t find the words anymore. He avoided looking into those fiery eyes, internally scrambling for something, anything to say. It was a bad idea. A horrible idea, what was he thinking, deciding he was ready for-

“You don’t look well,” Wrathion said, sparing him further struggle.

“I don’t feel well,” Anduin said, his voice quiet.

“Is it my fault?”

Finally, he looked up at the dragon. That flame he remembered seeing in his eyes was faint, the confident smile gone from his lips. “No,” he said. “Not entirely. It’s my fault, too. I should’ve talked to you sooner.”

“I didn’t want to get you into trouble, in case someone found out, you did mention it so I waited-”

“Thank you,” the king said, taking a few steps forward to decrease the distance between them. “But I’ve done a lot of thinking. And crying. And-”

“Yes or no?”

Anduin paused. Direct. To the point. Probably for the best. He was dangerously close to that point where he’d start to trip over his words, where he’d start bumbling, and too many words would just bury what he  really wanted to say.

Which was: “Yes.”

Wrathion exhaled, a smile creeping back onto his face, and his shoulders sagging. Tension visibly left him. Was he as stressed as Anduin?

“Thank you,” he suddenly blurted out and hurried to the other man, trapping him in a tight embrace. “I promise I’ll do my best not to cause you trouble-”

“Shut up,” Anduin returned the embrace. He missed the feeling of those strong arms around himself. He felt like he could sink into that hug completely, hide behind those arms. He felt secure. Safe. Like for once, for the first time since receiving the crown, someone else would look out for him. Would protect him.

Like for just a little bit he didn’t have to pretend everything was alright.

“Anduin?” Wrathion asked softly.

“I’m not crying,” he lied.

“Of course not.”

The king pulled away from the embrace reluctantly, and immediately felt a little bit colder. He wiped a tear out of his eye. “I’m probably already in trouble,” he said after a moment, and took a deep breath to try to compose himself. “Right now, I don’t care. I want to be myself while I can. Feel some happiness while I can.”

Wrathion gently pressed his lips against Anduin’s, who responded at once. The kiss was soft and chaste, the king that says I love you. “Worry about it  another day?”

Anduin nodded, perhaps too eagerly. Maybe eventually he’d decide to end this romance. If he felt like his heart could take it. Or maybe he’d continue to meet his man in secret, if he concluded he could take the secrecy it entailed. Or maybe-

“Would your people truly hate you if they found out?” Wrathion derailed his thoughts. “Are they truly so judgemental that they would deny their king happiness because it’s with a male?” He sighed. “Or is it because I’m a dragon, and a black one at that?”

“I don’t know,” Anduin could not muster more than a whisper. “I’ll need an heir to carry the name, to rule, my father’s memory deserves that-”

He cut off. He didn’t mean to go there. To ruin the moment even more than he already had.

The dragon shook his head slightly. “I understand. You’re accepting me now, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Anduin rested his head against the other man’s chest. “And we’ll see what happens tomorrow.” He’d probably marry, sooner rather than later. He didn’t mind being with a woman, but the problem with that was that no woman was Wrathion. The people probably wouldn’t take kindly to him naming someone outside of the Wrynn dynasty as his heir, if he tried that, or adopting a child.

“I wish I could marry you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Wrathion held his breath for a second. “Say that again?”

“I-I don’t mean right now,” the king flinched away. “I just- I’d like to have the option to- to be with a man-”

Wrathion brushed a stray strand of hair out of Anduin’s face. “And you’d consider me.”

“… Yes.”

He smiled. “I’m honoured. And, well, I  _am_ a prince…”

“… And getting my hopes up.”

“I’m sorry. Tomorrow’s problem, right?”

“Right,” Anduin pulled him to the oversized bed. Oversized because there was way too much space for him alone. But at that moment, just for a bit, there was someone with him to fill that space. “I, um. Practised. A little. To get ready for you.”

Wrathion’s smile widened a little at that as he started to strip the clothes off Anduin. “I did notice the very obvious jar you have by the bed.”

The king quickly reciprocated, not wanting to be the only one naked, and wanting to see that beautiful body just as much. “What do you want me to do?”

He was pushed down onto the bed, and moaned when the soft, warm lips kissed his neck.

“Just enjoy,” Wrathion breathed. “The thought of being inside you… you got me so excited…”

Anduin did not bother holding back his voice, continuing to moan, his thoughts grinding to a half at the sound of those words.  _Inside you_ . He was going to be taken, by the man of his dreams, they were going to go all the way that very night-

He twitched as fingers wrapped around his cock. He watched as Wrathion dipped his other hand in the healing ointment while stroking him at the same time. Spreading his legs, Anduin allowed the other man to start stretching him.

One finger. “You look so beautiful…” the dragon smiled, his eyes lighting up with that familiar flame. “So sexy…”

Two fingers. Anduin shifted a bit as the sensations inside and around him continued to become more intense with each word he heard. Something about the way they were said turned him on even more. That soft, heated voice, the fact that someone saw him at his most embarrassing and liked it, the fact that it all came from a man so dear to him.

Three fingers.

“Keep talking…” he managed, squeezing those fingers inside him. They felt so different than when he did it himself. So much better.

Wrathion’s lips curled up into a grin, baring those scaringly sharp fangs. “Oh, my…” he said. Anduin twitched in his hand. Was that a blush he saw on that handsome dark face?

The dragon leaned in, their face so close they could feel each other’s heated breaths. “Does the High King of the mighty Alliance like hearing dirty talk while having his ass fingered?”

The muscles tightened around him again. “I think that’s a yes…”

Anduin gripped Wrathion’s face in both his hands and kissed him – deeply, clumsily, passionately. “I want to… make you feel good too…”

The other man responded with another kiss. “You will. I think you’re ready for me…”

He watched Wrathion pull away, giving him a very good view of his toned muscles and cock at full attention. Anduin sprang up and took the jar out of his hand. “Let me.”

When a nod and a smile gave him permission, he dipped his hand in the ointment and then wrapped it around the hardness before him. Wrathion sighed, allowing himself to get lost in the moment. But not completely. “You have such soft hands…” he said, continuing to tease his lover. He never even suspected he had it in him to be so dirty, but it didn’t come too hard – damn the pun – and he was loving it. “But I’d rather… feel your ass around me…”

Anduin kissed him yet again, this time softly, and laid back down. His heart was racing, beating so hard he feared it would either break out of his chest or make him pass out. The hardness pressed against his stretched entrance, and then just a bit into him.

He stiffened. No pain. Just a bit of discomfort, but Wrathion was going in slowly, letting him adjust.

“Alright?” the dragon breathed. It was taking every ounce of his self-control not to just go all out, but he couldn’t do that. As good as it felt, hot and tight and fuelled by the beautiful man beneath him, he just couldn’t risk hurting the one he loved.

Before that moment, he hadn’t been entirely sure he had it in him, either.

“Yes,” Anduin managed, eyes glossy as he looked into those red eyes. “Keep going…”

All he could do after that was moan, and let the other man take the lead. He gripped the sheets, not knowing how to deal with the sensation of the cock inside him, stretching him even further, rubbing against that one spot that made him see stars. A kiss against his neck anchored his thoughts back in reality, followed by another, and another.

“Anduin…” Wrathion said, voice quiet and heated. “You feel so good…”

“Yes…” the king wrapped his arms around the dragon. He pulled him just a bit closer, his own cock pressing against that sweating body. As the pace quickened, he struggled to find words, and apparently so did Wrathion, who stopped trying to talk dirty. Not that Anduin needed any more exciting.

He  couldn't tell how long it all lasted. All his mind registered was the body against him, and the mounting pleasure. The breaths against his neck were just a bit hotter, the moans louder and breaking-

Wrathion bit his own lip as he suddenly pulled out of Anduin, leaving him gasping, but only for a brief moment before he pressed their cocks together. He continued thrusting, the rhythm almost feral, the movements clumsy, but so intense that it drove them both over the edge.

For a moment, Anduin just laid there, struggling to process everything.

He did it.  _They_ did it. He had given himself to another man, fully and completely. And that time he knew that certainly wasn’t a dream.

Wrathion was still there.

Their lips met yet again, this time almost lazily, the afterglow only just beginning to fade. Slowly his muscles started responding again, and he used that to once again wrap his arms around his beloved.  He voiced his feelings again, expressed his love, and heard the same in return. He believed it; maybe it was naive of him, but he knew the words were honest. He hoped it would last, but just like most everything that’s happened over the last several days, that could be tomorrow’s problem.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote that Mathias/Flynn scene before reading "Terror by Torchlight", I swear.


End file.
